Hunted
by herosonicsuggestions
Summary: People Sonic would rather forget are reappearing, and survival begins to look less and less likely. More characters will appear of course. Rated M for language and who-knows-what.
1. Chapter 1

New story huzzah. Multi chapter this time, if I can get it off the ground lol. Hope you enjoy.

 **Hunted**

"… _ **..though the creature was quickly dealt with by heroes from the Hero Association. In other news, Sir James Falkret, the CEO of the multi-billion dollar electronics manufacturer FoneTEq has been found dead on his property in the early hours of this morning. Though the police and FoneTEq have yet to make a statement, initial reports suggest that he may have been murdered. We are awaiting a statement from the chief of police. Now for the weather-"**_

 _Dead, huh? He was supposed to be my hit later this week. Did my client look elsewhere or something?_

Sonic pulled his small phone from his hoodie pocket, looking for missed calls, texts; anything that could suggest what was going on. Maybe this was the work of someone else, and they had simply given the order first?

 _Well that was supposed to be this month's rent money. S'pose I'll have to look for a new job if I don't wanna end up out on my ass._

What a pain. He'd find out who had done this and make damn sure they knew better than to steal his targets in the future. The situation as it stood was pretty dire, he was losing a lot of jobs recently and his savings were almost gone. If he couldn't turn this around, for the first time since leaving the ninja school he'd be officially broke.

 _Come to think of it, work has been difficult for a while now. This isn't the first time one my targets has been done in or gone missing from right under my nose, clients have been hiring me for bodyguard duties and then cancelling before I've even started, and even my most faithful clients have been almost silent for weeks now. Is the Hero Association behind this? I'll torch the place if they're messing with me!_

Sonic felt real physical relief an hour later when his phone rang with the screen displaying the name of one of his best clients, a multi-millionaire who traded mansions during the day and imported vast quantities of drugs by night. His colleagues who knew nothing of his drugs cartel thought he was unnecessarily paranoid hiring a personal bodyguard but Sonic's real job was to protect him during meetings and deals with other drug lords and suppliers. The nice thing about this job, apart from the prospect of not ending up homeless by the end of the month, was the fact that working for rich old men meant he got to hang around their vast mansions and go to fancy restaurants.

 _ **The Boss wants you here by 8pm – front gate. Wait for the car.**_

The texts informing him of work were never particularly detailed, though this was probably for the best should he ever lose his phone and have it picked up by some moron hero.

 _They didn't specify smart clothing, so I'm gonna go with the assumption this may get ugly. At least there's the possibility of trying out my new sword._

…..

As it turned out, this wasn't just a small get together between "business partners" to discuss plans. Every major drug and weapons lord throughout the cities was here, and they all had extensive teams of armed men protecting them. Sonic got no small amount of satisfaction from the fact that his employer, Mr Deniro only had a small team in comparison, made up of Sonic and his two most trusted employees, the ego boost didn't last for long as the sheer boredom set in. The room itself was beautiful, huge and panelled in white-painted wood decorated with French baroque motifs and small flowers painted in gold. On the parallel wall were large gothic windows nearly reaching the ceiling, though they had been closed off behind curtains hours ago. Grand glass chandeliers reflected on the excessively polished walnut table which was large enough to seat all 12 of the drug lords. Sonic would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy working for rich people, the shame being that most of the time these jobs involved standing around trying to look scary for hours on end.

The ornate double doors suddenly flung open, with the final member of the congregation arriving late, followed closely by a huge team of suited bodyguards….and one figure in particular who caught Sonic's eye.

"So sorry for being so late, we encountered some trouble with one of our suppliers."

The man certainly didn't _look_ particularly sorry, calmly walking over to his seat amongst the others with his huge private army having to push their way in amongst all the other bodyguards.

Well, all except for one. The one Sonic couldn't stop staring at, not caring even slightly if his staring was obvious. The tall figure all in black. Chest length hair the colour of burnt wood, which had been half tied at the back. The inscripted strap of a sword sheath pulled taut over a broad chest. And the sharp brown eyes staring right back.

One of his former classmates from the ninja school.

 _This only means trouble._

Sonic made sure that his gaze didn't once waver or move from the eyes of the ninja stood in front of him. There was no way in hell he was going to allow himself to appear frightened or weak in front of someone like _him_. The last hour of the meeting was easily the slowest hour of Sonic's life, and if it hadn't been for his professional-killer charade he always put on at work he would have let out an enormous sigh.

"I wondered if I'd run into you, the others warned me it might happen."

Sonic turned and took a step back, his face stoic.

"They say you're calling yourself 'Sonic' now?" The other ninja's mouth turned upwards in a half grin which Sonic would have given anything to slice off his face.

"It's Speed of Sound Sonic, actually. And it's pretty apt really, considering how none of you could ever hope to keep up with me." Sonic crossed his arms over his chest and slanted his hip. "That was quite some time ago now "Sonic", are you sure you should still be so cocky? I'm not surprised you haven't grown out of your arrogance, not even the masters at the school could beat it out of you. I felt bad sometimes" that small smile inched upwards, and Sonic was just about ready to tear it off with his hands, fuck getting his sword out for this loser.

"Hmph, the reality is that when I say none of you could keep up, I was including the fucking instructors. You know what tradition does? It chokes you, restricts you and holds your potential down until it dies pathetically. Like you will. Every single one of you are pathetic because you refuse to see how much you've stepped on your own feet by sticking to what you have been told to do. Everything you do is "traditional", and therefore very easy to predict."

"Sonic! What are you doing? The boss is waiting to go!"

"Well I wish I could say it's been fun, but that would be like saying I enjoy fucking cacti."

The ninja chuckled lightly, "it has been most interesting "Sonic". I hope we'll be seeing more of each other in the future."

 _Over your dead body._


	2. Chapter 2

This doesn't really carry straight on from chapter 1, but gives some insight into Sonic's past and why he's like he is. Chapter 3 will be back to the story.

 **Chapter two**

Though not even the threat of a punch to the balls from Saitama could make him admit it, seeing one of his old classmates had severely unnerved Sonic and he spent a long restless night replaying the whole thing in his head like the world's most irritating GIF. He had no proof, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his recent work troubles were somehow connected with the appearance of the ninja. It wasn't particularly unusual in itself for a ninja to take up body guarding work for well-paying millionaires, but ninjas who had been trained at _his_ school doing such low-tier work was almost unheard of, with the exception of Sonic himself. The school prided itself on its history and reputation, with many of its past master ninjas serving under powerful emperors and feudal warlords, otherwise students of the school rarely seemed to leave the place.

The school itself was almost a thing of legend. Buried deep within what was called The Dead Forest at a high mountainous altitude, just getting to the friggin' thing almost required training. The Dead Forest was just over 1,000 square miles of well….death. Few other areas were recorded as harbouring such constantly high numbers of monsters and Mysterious Beings, and books found in archaeological digs close to the area hint at entire armies entering the forest and never coming back out. Then, there are the 1,237 steep steps from the base of the forest to the front gate of the school, which was guarded under the kind of black magic which made even Sonic's nose crinkle in disgust.

The school was incredibly vast, and built in the traditional style, though the building had mostly been painted in black tar with red beams, giving it a suitably sinister appearance. The Master ninjas and instructors at the school were equally sinister. Or just downright sadistic. As far they were concerned there was nothing a good beating or whipping couldn't teach a student, no matter how young they are. Tradition, order and obedience were what the school liked the most. Everyone was taught the same techniques, the same survival skills, wore the same clothing, ate the same food, that all the other students had done since the school had been built thousands of years ago. Only two other ninja schools could compare in terms of sheer age and reputation.

…..But for Sonic, the school was nothing but a prison, and sometimes a torture chamber for him and the few other classmates who dared go against authority. Tradition didn't suit Sonic. He didn't understand why he couldn't go to the advanced classes when his physical abilities flourished so much faster, he didn't understand what good reading aged crumbling books on history and philosophy would do him if he was severely injured in combat, and he definitely didn't understand why he wasn't free to come and go as he pleased (although the closest settlement to the school was a tiny farming village on the outskirts of The Dead Forest. They supplied the school with food and offerings, but the villagers themselves were strange and foreboding). Over the 18 years he spent there before leaving for good, he decided that the two things he despised most in life were tradition and order. He craved chaos and adventure, challenges and new experiences away from the misty shadows of the mountains and forests.

When he first began to fight after leaving the school, it slowly dawned on him the massive holes in his abilities that the schools training had left. When he was assigned to kill civilians or the rich or politicians, his training was perfectly adequate. But there were challengers in the cities, both human and nonhuman alike, who posed a real threat. Some were unnaturally strong, or fast. Some could fly, some had perfected the use of weapons he had never seen before. Some could go invisible, or command other people or creatures. Each new foe harboured unknown abilities and expertise that Sonic had no way of tackling, because his "traditional" ninja training had been for the sole purposes of espionage, or assassination of normal, weak humans.

And he loved it.

 _This_ was what he had been dreaming about for so long while trapped in that hellish crapheap on top of that cold lonely mountain. The next few years were dedicated almost solely to learning as many new techniques and types of fighting as he could master. He'd find something he liked, practice until he had it perfected, and then find another technique to learn. He had to be the best. That school had wanted him to be another nameless shadow on the wall, but Sonic didn't want to be a shadow, he wanted to be a fire.

He was going to burn so brightly that everyone would fear his name. Nobody would match him in stealth or combat, and the first true sign of his rebellion were the purple facial tattoos. Back at the school, only the master ninjas had such tattoos, in black, to signify their abilities and prowess. Getting such marks, in a colour other than black, no less, was the biggest middle finger Sonic could ever hope to shove the school's way. Everything had been working out his way.

Until he met Saitama. And lost.

Nothing had ever managed to shake his confidence like that had. And the time after that. And the time after that….

Not even in his wildest imaginings atop the mountain had he dreamed up someone as strong as Saitama. So damn… _invincible!_ Sonic wasn't stupid, he knew that as it stood, if even an invading alien who had conquered entire PLANETS couldn't even lay a scratch on Saitama, then it'd be a cold breezy day in hell before Sonic could hope to best him.

But it'd be arctic fucking temperatures in hell before he gave up trying.

Though his past challengers and foes had been the kind of good practice Sonic had needed after leaving the school, in the end none of them had survived to challenge him again. And now not only was there Saitama, but Genos also and as much as it irked Sonic, he and Genos were on level footing in combat.

They were the opponents he had always been searching for.

But now the School of Shadows was coming back to haunt him.


End file.
